


Inspector Javert and the Eighth Wonder of the World

by Miss M (missm)



Category: King Kong (1933), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Javert Survives, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack and Angst, Crossover, Established Relationship, Face Squirrels, Kidnapping, M/M, Rescue Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 06:52:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3347660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missm/pseuds/Miss%20M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Javert's attempt to arrest the escaped gorilla wreaking havoc in the streets of Paris goes horribly wrong. Soon he finds himself the prisoner of Kong, a dangerous creature with a lonely soul. Will Javert be able to escape? And will he ever see his true love again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inspector Javert and the Eighth Wonder of the World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Esteliel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/gifts).



> Once upon a time, there were jokes about how Valjean should climb the façade of Notre-Dame, perhaps to save Javert from something terrible. One thing led to another, and this is the result. I'm sorry about everything.
> 
> (Kong's non-vegetarian tendencies are inspired by the movie; AFAIK normal-sized, RL gorillas are mainly herbivores, though I'm sure they can be violent. Consider not reading if you don't like people getting their heads bitten off.)
> 
> Huge thanks to Stripy for looking this over; any architecture fail (or fail in general) is my responsibility.

Half-awake, he sensed that something was off. He was not lying in bed, but on something hard, like stone; furthermore, his legs were cold. When he opened his eyes, he found to his dismay that he was half-naked: someone had peeled off his greatcoat and parts of his trousers, which had been torn to rags earlier... 

Javert sat up with a start, beginning to recollect bits of memories. Or were they memories? No, it was all too ludicruous to be real. A nightmare, surely, caused by a blow to the head from some criminal or other. But where was he?

His hat! he thought in dismay, running a hand through his hair, which he found had escaped from its queue. His hat had gone, and with it the squirrels had lost their cover, obviously having gone into hiding somewhere. Without them, his face felt disconcertingly bare. 

He started to get to his feet, then stumbled backwards with an oath. In front of him was emptiness: a two hundred feet long plunge into the dark. He steadied himself with a hand on the stone wall, his mind reeling. 

Paris lay below him; he could make out the Seine, the grid of streetlamps in the night. Around him was the massiveness of stone, of carved figures, towers -- no, it couldn't be, surely he must still be dreaming...

A sound like that of a saw grinding against a giant log filled his ears. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he turned. 

A massive paw materialised behind him. For once, Javert forgot everything about what constituted proper conduct for an Inspector of the Police. He opened his mouth, ready to yell like never before, but before he got that far, he felt himself swept up, lifted -- 

\-- but instead of crushing him, the paw held him softly, almost tenderly, raising him so he came face to face with a pair of staring eyes, looking at him from an inhuman face. The mouth opened, revealing a row of sharp teeth, and he realised it had not been a nightmare after all. 

Javert fainted.

 

*

 

_"Inspector!" a pale-faced gentleman called, pointing down the street, where sounds of crashing could be heard. "Please help! It's a disaster."_

_Javert, summoned by the disturbing noises from a few streets away, nodded to the gentleman. "My colleagues are on their way, Monsieur! Meanwhile, I shall go inspect the ruckus at once."_

_It must be a riot of some sort, he thought as he headed towards it. Perhaps another rebellion, even. Truth be told, he hoped it wasn't, for ever since his world had been broken and shaped anew after last time such a thing had occurred, he had avoided trying to determine whether the insurrection had been just or not. In the light of Valjean's grace it had seemed unimportant anyway -- compared to Valjean, everything was unimportant._

_But the noises and screams now brutally reminded him of reality, that this might be another uprising, another instance of youths and workers causing revolt. And then what was he supposed to do with them? As the disturbance ever louder and more alarming, he found himself desperately wishing for Valjean's advice._

_But when he turned the corner, the shock was so great all thoughts fled._

_An animal -- a creature -- no, a giant monkey! tearing through the streets like mayhem incarnate, smashing aside with giant fists everything that came in its way, overturning fiacres, stamping on clusters of bystanders._

_As Javert watched, speechless, the monkey caught a trembling youth in its enormous paw. Wild eyes stared, white fangs gleamed; and then the creature brought the boy to its mouth and bit -- through the crowd's terrified screams, Javert could not hear the sound of bones being crushed, but he did not miss the way the monkey threw the body to the ground and stamped on it._

_Javert drew himself up. Fear had momentarily paralysed him, but he knew that if ever there was a time when his devotion to duty would be a saving grace, it was now. He had been a cold man, blind to truth and goodness for so long, until Valjean had opened his eyes to love and beauty; but he had never been a selfish man, and now the chance had come to prove it._

_He stepped out in front of the creature, drawing himself up to his full height. He still had to tilt his head backwards to look into the monkey's face, but he would not let such a minor thing deter him; nevertheless he wished he had brought his gun. The truncheon would have to do. Pulling it out, he made sure it was clearly visible in his hand. Under his hat, he could sense the squirrels trembling faintly, but they held their position in a manner befitting their station._

_"Halt!" He raised the truncheon, then looked around. "Is there anyone here who is in charge of this animal?"_

_No one replied. The street had fallen eerily silent, the onlookers having frozen in fear, citizens and common folk alike._

_Javert forced himself to look back at the monkey. At least it had not attacked him. Rather, it was watching him intently, an expression on its brutish features that seemed puzzled, almost charmed -- but that was of course a ridiculous thought._

_"Now," he said sternly, vaguely wondering if it would have done him any good to bring the largest handcuffs available to the Parisian police. Probably not. "Where is your caretaker?"_

_Unsurprisingly, the monkey did not reply. Instead, it took a step closer to him. The ground seemed to quake under its weight, but Javert refused to be cowed._

_"This is a case of vandalism and manslaughter," he announced to the world at large. "Whoever is in charge of this... animal... will be arrested immediately. Now. Come with me."_

_This last he said to the monkey, pointing menacingly at it with his truncheon. He had no illusions that the creature would understand his words, but the command in his voice should be clear enough._

_"Come," he repeated, motioning for it to follow him._

_The ground shook as heavy feet moved. Javert was pleased. Indeed, even this giant monster of a monkey could tell he was serious. Expelling the last grain of fear from his heart, he turned and started on his way back towards the station-house._

_Next thing he knew, he was far above the ground, cradled in an enormous palm, an overwhelming animal smell in his nostrils. He turned his head, rattled and incapable of thought, and again looked into those giant eyes -- but now they were close to his own._

_For what should prove not to be the last time, Javert fainted._

 

*

 

When he came to, nothing had changed. The night was still dark, the city far below him. Javert glanced around again, at the gargoyles and the towers, and swallowed as he realised that he must, indeed, be almost on top of the Notre-Dame, in the passageway between the two towers. 

He spared only a fleeting moment to wonder why the monkey had brought him here instead of killing him. Who was to say what went through the mind of such a creature? He remembered, now, the circus posters he had seen about the town -- something about _Kong, the eighth wonder of the world!_ , and a painting of the very same gorilla he had been unfortunate to experience first-hand. Even leaving aside the fact that unauthorised monkeys roaming the streets of Paris was not a daily occurrence, Javert would have recognised the animal. He never forgot a face. 

Presently, however, the main problem that occupied his mind was that of escape. Slowly, he got to his feet before risking a quick look around. 

The monkey was currently nowhere in sight, but Javert was not given to recklessness, knowing the faintest sound might betray him. Stealthily, he made his way to the closest tower where he assumed there must be a door, leading downwards and to his freedom. 

When he got there, however, he almost swore out loud: the wall of the tower was crumbled on one side, clearly smashed by a giant fist, and the stairs were blocked. He looked towards the other tower and briefly considered making a run for it, but then there was a familiar squeak by his feet, and he almost heaved a great sigh in relief. 

"Quickly now," he whispered, bending down so that he could look the squirrels in the eye, praying they would not be interrupted before he had given them their orders. "Here is what you must do."

 

*

 

No sooner had he returned to the place where he'd woken up than there came a mighty roar from somewhere below, followed by the sound of stone crumbling under forceful blows: Kong was returning. 

Javert quickly lay down, pretending to be still asleep. Earlier, when the gorilla had realised he was awake, he had been picked up as if he were a mere child's toy. Perhaps if he was completely still, the beast would lose interest. 

The question again presented itself, more insistently this time: why had he been taken here? Did the gorilla intend to use him as a hostage? Or did Kong have another, more sinister plan?

He frowned, scolding himself for suspecting a jungle animal of being capable of planning at all. But the fact remained that he had not been eaten, but taken here instead, and the gorilla had cradled him, looking at him with fondness -- if it could be called fondness -- the way one might look at a pet...

Javert shuddered at the thought. Nausea welled up in him, and he clenched his teeth, old memories of men in chains welling up in his mind, unbidden. 

By God and all that was holy, if he ever survived this -- if he ever was allowed to set foot on the ground, to breathe freely, to see Valjean's smile again -- he would forever hold the squirrels in high regard, and make sure to up their daily ration of acorns. 

 

* 

 

He must have dozed off, for when he woke, it was almost dawn, and he was feeling cold. Warily, he glanced behind him, and caught sight of the gorilla, who was sitting to his right, as silent and watchful as a guardsman of Toulon, staring into the horizon where it blossomed orange.

Javert felt a strange sensation in his chest. It took him a moment to know it for what it was: pity. How strange that he of all people should harbour such an emotion, and for a giant gorilla who had taken him prisoner, at that! 

And yet -- hadn't he himself been taken pity on and forgiven when he least deserved it?

Javert frowned, pondering this matter for a moment. Of course Kong was not a man and should not be treated as such, but perhaps that was only another argument as to why pity might not be displaced. One could not expect proper conduct from a dumb beast, especially one who had been abducted from his natural habitat and let loose in an incomprehensible world. 

Naturally, Javert held his squirrels to high standards, though they were not common beasts, but graduates from the Paris Academy of Police Squrrels and as such did not count. Besides, he had never imposed his own standards on them. They had merely followed his orders, after all. 

That was indeed a difficult matter all of its own, one he resolved to give more thought as soon as he was out of this particular difficult situation. Whether or not Kong was to be condemned or pitied or both was not of particular relevance to him at the moment, since neither feeling would help him escape sooner -- unless he could somehow manage to gain his captor's trust?

Carefully, he got to his feet. 

A giant head turned towards him; again, there was that peculiar softening of eyes, as if the gorilla found in him something to care for. Javert tried not to think about what it might mean. His task was now to play this bizarre situation to his advantage as far as he could. 

"Good boy," he said tentatively. 

Did the gorilla understand him? Javert doubted it, and not only on the grounds of his earlier failed arrest. It had taken the squirrels seven years at the Academy, and many more years in steadfast service, to obtain a grasp of human communication. A creature captured in the jungle and brought to Paris by force would surely not learn French in such a short time. 

Nevertheless, he had no other card to play.

"Listen to me," he said carefully, taking a step towards the looming shape on the parapet behind him. "You have abducted an officer of the law. It is a severe crime. Now, I cannot expect you to be aware of the Code Napoléon --" or any sort of code, he supposed, "-- but this might have severe consequences." 

For a second, Valjean's face rose before his inner eye. A wave of sudden longing went through him, and he swallowed. Whether he would ever see Valjean again, depended on many things, one of them being himself. If he should somehow provoke the gorilla into an attack...

"I shall be grateful, however, if you let me go," Javert went on, trying to sound calming. It was not something that came easily to him, but perhaps Kong would appreciate the effort. "I will personally attest to M. Chabouillet that I did not come to any harm." 

Hesitating slightly, he then added, "I will do my best to make sure you regain your freedom."

The gorilla was still studying him, an interested gleam in the deepset eyes. Javert stared back, determined not to show fear. 

When the giant paw again approached him, he did not flinch, nor did he faint, but held his ground, gritting his teeth as a huge finger stroked his hair. 

"Awwrr," Kong said. The sound was disturbingly fond. 

More disturbing, however, was what the other paw then proceeded to dump right in front of him. Javert almost jumped as the smell of raw meat hit his nostrils. 

"Awwrr!" said Kong again, gesturing at the bloody carcass of a cow. 

Javert swallowed, shaking his head. "I am... not hungry. Thank you." 

He sat down on the wall next to the broken tower as Kong, unperturbed, made short work of the breakfast Javert had rejected. Were his past mistakes grave enough to earn such a sentence, becoming prisoner and pet to a giant monkey? Was there no escape? What would happen if he tried to sneak away during the cover of darkness? The stairs were broken, so he would need to climb down the external walls, a task which he had never learned -- Valjean would know how to do it, he thought, and longing overwhelmed him once more. 

The sky was growing lighter still. He dared a glance over at Kong. Did gorillas sleep during the day? Perhaps an opportunity would present itself...

Suddenly he froze, pricking up his ears. Had there been a sound? 

He dared a glance over at Kong, but the gorilla was still fully preoccupied with the meal. As silently as he could, he rose, making his way towards the outer wall, his nerves alight. When he leaned over the wall, peering into the shadows below, his heart almost stopped. 

There, a fifty feet below him, he could make out a shape moving upwards, silent and agile, movements calm and swift despite the terrible drop beneath. The darkness was still hard to penetrate, even for Javert's sharp eyes, but he knew without a doubt who it was -- he'd know him anywhere.

"You didn't," he whispered, his mouth dry, his heart beating fast in his chest. "Oh, dear God..."

His fingers whitened where they gripped the wall. Watching the figure climbing steadily up towards him, he felt as though he couldn't breathe, as though the smallest movement on his part would lead to disaster -- he could not even bear to imagine it. And so he stood, immobile, frozen, his gaze glued to the point where the shadows gave way to sunlight and Jean Valjean was emerging from the abyss, some twenty feet below. 

Their eyes met. Valjean paused, balancing on a protruding ornament while keeping himself steady with both hands. Behind and below him was death; one wrong move and he would fall into it. 

Javert could not have spoken even if he'd thought it safe. Surely his stare conveyed everything necessary. _You terrify me._

Valjean's mouth curved into a small smile. _Don't be afraid._

He had to close his eyes, then, at the emotions that filled him, fear and awe and a love so intense it overwhelmed every thought. When he finally dared look back, Valjean had moved and was closer still, casting his eyes about for the best place to scale the remaining distance. Javert caught sight of a sturdy-looking gargoyle a bit to his right, hidden in the shadow of the broken tower, and pointed him towards it. 

As Valjean scrambled the last distance towards him, Javert fleetingly allowed himself a moment to admire the sight -- to think a man in his sixties could be this strong and limber! -- and then he scolded himself. The last thing he could afford was to forget the severity of the situation. If Kong found them now...

He sharpened his ears to listen, and was relieved to hear the messy sounds of eating were still coming from the other side of the tower -- the gorilla must not be missing him yet. Leaning over the parapet with bated breath, he watched Valjean climb the last short distance until he was close enough for Javert to lean over, take his hand and help him over the railing and to safety.

Valjean collapsed in his arms for a moment, breathing heavily, and Javert clung to him, unable to let go despite the risk, relief and exasperation and love more fierce than he could ever have imagined all running wild through him. "You are mad," he whispered in Valjean's ear, running his hands through his hair, over his shoulders and back. "You are mad, you are mad, you are mad..." 

"You couldn't imagine," Valjean whispered between gasps for air, "that you could send Justice to me with such a message and expect me to do nothing?" 

"I simply wanted you to know what had happened! And not to worry." The absurdity of the last words struck Javert even as he spoke them. He sighed. "That climb could easily have killed you... And now we are both in peril." 

Only then did he realise the sounds were quieting down. Reluctantly he tore himself away from Valjean. "Stay here! And be very silent."

When he rounded the corner of the broken tower, Kong had finished the cow and was looking around questioningly. Javert stepped forth, holding up both hands in what he hoped was a calming gesture, and the gorilla's mouth widened in what could only be described as a fond grin. "Awwr..."

"Indeed," said Javert stiffly. By God, why had the creature taken a liking to him, of all people? For all his flaws, he would never have considered himself particularly suited to be a gorilla's pet -- or whatever it was Kong had in store for him. 

He suppressed another shudder, approaching the gorilla as calmly as he could. Now there was not only his own life to guard, but Valjean's as well, which was infinitely more precious to him, and until they both could make their escape -- if there was a way to get down from here at all -- he would have to put Kong at ease. 

When the massive paw came for him again, he steeled himself, and this time he did not faint, nor suffer any other humiliating inconveniences as he was lifted up into the air and then held steady, cradled against Kong's chest. 

The latter was humiliation enough, however, he thought bitterly as a giant finger stroked his whiskers, his hair -- "Awwr," Kong cooed, a rumbling sound that reverberated through Javert's body. The indignity of it was almost too much to bear; on the other hand, he would bear any indignity for Valjean's sake, even this one, and so he grudgingly bore the gorilla's ministrations, forcing himself to sit still. At least the squirrels weren't there to see their superior being handled in such a manner. 

Kong rose, massive fist still cradling Javert, and moved over to the outer wall, from where Paris lay spread out all under them, bathed in the early morning light. Javert had to close his eyes and swallow for a second as he was lifted up high -- if the gorilla dropped him now, he would be dead. 

"Awwr," Kong said again, softly now, looking not at Javert, but east, towards the rising sun. Again Javert felt that strange twinge of pity. What if Kong had, for whatever reason, seen in him some kind of kindred soul? Should he not do his best to help this creature who was alone and friendless in a foreign land?

"Do you want me," he said carefully, trying to forget the deadly drop beneath him, "to help you go home?" 

Kong's head turned towards him. Those huge gorilla eyes met Javert's, and all Javert could see there was a tired sorrow. For a moment he imagined it all: being hunted, dragged away, tied up and held captive in a ship far too small, being held up as a monster for the world to gawk at... The pity in his heart waxed and grew. He swallowed, not knowing what to say. 

Then all of a sudden Kong jumped up, letting out a mighty bellow that had Javert's ears ringing; he would surely have jumped as well if he had not been safely held fast in that giant fist even as Kong made for the nearest tower in long strides. He could not help but cling on for dear life, by instinct rather than intention, as Kong came to a standstill on top of the tower, letting out another roar that must surely have roused all of Paris's inhabitants from their sleep. 

Javert took a deep breath. Wilfully ignoring the fact that the fist of an agitated gorilla was all that stood between him and several hundred feet of empty air, he stared into the void and caught sight of what was going on to have upset Kong so.

A crowd had gathered below in front of the cathedral. The excited murmur could be heard all the way up here, now that he listened for it, and if Kong's threatening growl was any indication, the gorilla was not pleased by what was happening. 

Kong roared again, a sound so loud it reverberated through Javert's body, but still the fingers that held him fast were surprisingly gentle, and Javert realised he had no need to fear for himself: if Kong had wanted to drop him, or crush him, or eat him, he would have been dead by now. What might happen to Valjean, should the gorilla catch sight of him, was of course another matter. He could not afford to take any risks. 

"Javert!" 

The call took him aback. Wasn't that M. Chabouillet's voice? But where was he? Not daring to respond, Javert squinted down towards the square below, but could not catch sight of his superior anywhere. 

"Javert!" Chabouillet's voice came again from somewhere below him. "Are you still there? Don't move, we have snipers on him!" 

The words made him freeze. Slowly he turned his head to the side. On the far tower, he could now make out a faint movement in the shadows: three men with rifles.

How had they managed to get there? And what was he to do? 

His mind raced. If they attacked Kong, there was no knowing what might happen -- he might easily be dropped and fall to his death after all. And would firearms be enough to kill the gorilla? 

That strange pity twinged in his chest again, but he did not have time to reflect on it before Kong, much to his surprise, turned and gently deposited him safely behind the parapet. 

"Awwr," Kong said. Those inscrutable eyes looked into Javert's for a long second, and Javert did not know what to say, that foreign compassion still swelling in his heart. 

Then the moment broke. The gorilla turned away from him, jumping back on top of the tower and letting out a roar that could not be anything but a declaration of war. Javert scrambled close to the parapet, pressing his back to it to get out of harm's way. His heart was beating fast, still not with fear for himself but above all worry for Valjean and what might have happened to him. He had not been found by Kong -- yet -- but what about the snipers? 

Then came the thundering of guns; the snipers had let loose. Another loud roar from Kong, whose immense figure twitched in pain. The gorilla jumped towards the other tower in a few long strides, seemingly indifferent to the bullets, and someone -- Javert thought it might be Chabouillet -- cried for the snipers to reload. He held his breath, watching as Kong approached the snipers, swiping at one of them with a giant fist. With a terrible cry, the soldier fell off the tower and into the abyss beyond. 

Between the cries and roars and shooting, and that all-encompassing fear for Valjean that still filled him, Javert had kept motionless, pressed against the parapet. But now he again realised that he could not simply stay there doing nothing -- that would be a coward's move. And whatever else could be said about him, a coward he was not. 

He jumped to his feet and ran towards the tower. Kong was aiming for one of the other snipers, who had taken refuge behind a cluster of gargoyles. The third man was firing bullet after bullet at Kong, but with little result; it seemed that nothing could stop the furious gorilla, who was bleeding from several wounds but still roaring like mad, massive fists crushing and sweeping aside the gargoyles behind which the sniper was cowering.

"Stop!" Javert cried. In other circumstances, he would have considered it ridiculous to plead with a gorilla, but such notions were the last thing on his mind now. "Kong, I beseech you, stop it!"

The gorilla took no notice, either not having heard him or not caring. With a final roar, the second sniper met his fate: Kong swept him up in a giant paw, grinned a terrible grin -- or so it seemed to Javert -- and bit his head off.

Javert's stomach lurched with fear and revulsion both. What if such a thing should happen to Valjean? No, no, that did not bear thinking about -- but where _was_ Valjean? 

"Stop!" he shouted again, stamping his foot in utter frustration. "No more of this! Kong! No more, I tell you!"

The gorilla glanced his way, but only swiftly -- apparently whatever had passed between them there at the parapet was gone, or at least momentarily forgotten, lost in the haze of bloodlust and fear. Instead Kong turned towards the last sniper, who was pressed into one of the corners -- he must soon be out of bullets. Javert was now close enough to make out the details of the man's face: a mere youth, he was pale, trembling with terror. 

And then suddenly someone emerged from the shadows on top of the tower, between Kong and the youth. Javert immediately recognised that well-known, well-loved figure, and his stomach lurched again, along with his heart. 

"Valjean," he called, or meant to call. It came out as a choked gasp. 

Kong growled, apparantly both taken aback and angered at the intruder. Valjean took a step closer, keeping his eyes on the gorilla's face and holding up his hands. They were empty.

"I'm not here to hurt you," Valjean said, very softly. Javert could not believe his own ears. Was Valjean trying to reason with the ape? When Kong wouldn't listen to him, Javert, despite having taken such a peculiar liking to him?

"Valjean," he choked again, terror obstructing his throat. "He'll kill you!"

Valjean looked at him then, though he must be too far away to have heard properly. It was a calm gaze, tender and trusting, and love and longing surged through Javert and mingled with the fear in his chest so he almost couldn't breathe. He shook his head mutely, taking another step towards the tower and the figures on top of it. Valjean turned back towards the gorilla.

"Let him go," he said, gesturing towards the cowering youth. "Have mercy. He and the others were trying to help my friend here. But it was my fault; I climbed up with the rope that helped them come here. Let him go."

"No!" 

The cry startled himself more than anyone, but Javert did not take the time to be thankful that he again had full command of his lungs. Faced with the horror of Valjean offering himself up like this -- and hopeless anger as well as love, because _of course_ the infuriating man would -- all caution was gone. 

He ran to the tower, all fear of heights gone now. As he clawed his way upwards, Kong gave a warning growl, which Javert barely noticed. When he fell over the parapet on the top at last, between Kong, Valjean, and the sniper, he barely took a moment to regain his breath before shaking his head again. 

"It was my fault," he gasped. "I tried to arrest him and then he brought me here as his -- his hostage. I alerted you, I alerted Monsieur Chabouillet. I brought you all here -- it's my fault." He turned to Kong then, who had fallen back, watching him with inscrutable eyes. "Kill me instead!" 

Kong stared at him for a long moment, then at Valjean. Those inscrutable eyes, small in the giant face, narrowed; a long angry growl emerged from deep in the gorilla's chest. Javert held his ground, as he had done the day before when faced with this creature wrecking havoc in the streets of Paris. Love, a duty in its own right and one he had embraced with gladness, compelled him. One thing was clear: he would rather die the most gruesome death, crushed between Kong's jaws or thrown into the abyss, than live in a world without Valjean.

"Javert," Valjean said behind him, voice low and pained. "You can still escape. He does not want your death." 

"If he dies, I die," said Javert, not taking his eyes from Kong. "Do you understand that?" In his frenzied mind he thought that Kong did probably understand in some fashion. "Kill him and you will have killed me." A bit belatedly, something occurred to him. "And for God's sake, let this poor boy live. He was merely following orders." 

"Awwrr," Kong said. It was still a growl, but now there was a hopeless tinge to it. Javert noted the gorilla had not moved, poised but still there on the parapet, ready to pounce -- or withdraw. Perhaps there was hope yet.

"He longs for his freedom." There was a sadness in Valjean's voice that made Javert desperately want to turn around and embrace him, but he did not dare. "For his freedom -- and for love, Javert. He has neither."

"I have already promised I will put in a good word for him with Monsieur Chabouillet," Javert said between clenched teeth. Kong had crouched down, and looked ready to spring. "What more does he want?"

The touch of Valjean's hand on his shoulder sent a jolt through him like that of a ship being anchored, the warmth of it blossoming through his body. Without thinking, he took a step backwards, closer to Valjean. Kong's eyes followed his every move.

"Nothing you can give him, I think," Valjean whispered, his breath a warm huff in Javert's ear. "But let us have pity, Javert. He has nothing, and we have everything." 

Javert shivered. He locked eyes with Kong once more. The gorilla's eyes had lost their rage; only sadness remained. Again, he searched within himself and found pity. 

He reached upwards and covered Valjean's hand with his own for a brief second. Then, abandoning all dignity, he went forth, towards Kong, holding that sad gorilla gaze, telling himself it must be done -- there was no other way.

Coming to a halt in front of Kong, he reached up with both arms. "Here I am," he said, the weight of the words heavy in his stomach. "All yours. Take me with you." 

"Javert!" Valjean cried behind him, and the shocked pain in his voice was almost enough to make Javert turn around, run to him and embrace him and never let go. 

But there was no other way, he told himself as he waited for Kong's reaction. Either they would all be killed, or he must come willingly. He had sworn often enough that he would do anything for Valjean, and now was the time to show he meant it. 

At last Kong made another sound, surprised, soft, tender. A large hand came down towards him, making to pick him up, cradle him -- Javert closed his eyes and waited.

A shot rang through the early morning dawn.

Javert's eyes flew open. He jumped back as Kong cried out in agony, blood spurting from the gorilla's mouth -- a dash of it splattered onto Javert's face, sickeningly warm and sticky. Grunting, he wiped most of it away with the remains of his sleeve, enough to catch sight of Kong toppling over the tower's edge. 

For the last time he looked into those gorilla eyes, but now they were glossed over, nearly dead already. He stumbled backwards in shock, and would have fallen if Valjean hadn't been there to catch him and hold him close.

Javert shuddered, his heart pounding. The gorilla had died -- Kong was gone. Not even the greatest beast alive could survive such a fall. 

He leaned back in Valjean's arms and tried to catch his breath, still not able to fully relax; his whole body was tense, all nerves alight. Valjean kissed his ear, seemingly heedless of whatever blood was there, and held him tighter. 

"I got him in the mouth," a thin voice said. "I thought it must be the only way."

Javert tilted his head to see who was speaking, though he did not pull away from Valjean's embrace -- at that moment, he would not have cared if the prefect of the police, M. Gisquet himself, had been there to see them. But the sniper, who'd crawled into the furthest corner, still clutching his rifle, wasn't even looking in their diretion. His eyes were fixed on the place where Kong had toppled over the wall.

"I took advantage of the fact he wasn't looking," the youth continued, visibly shaken. "You distracted him so well, sir, I had to seize the opportunity." Then, finally, a nervous glance in Javert's direction. "Shouldn't I have?"

"You did well," Javert said heavily. "Very much so."

The youth nodded. "Thank you, sir. I'll go down and report to Monsieur Chabouillet -- he's waiting for us a couple storeys below." 

Valjean spoke, his breath a gentle rustle in Javert's ear. "Do you need help, young man?" 

"No, thank you, Monsieur," the sniper said, flushing a bit -- presumably he didn't know what to make of their embrace. "They will have workers clear the staircase to the tower now that the beast is dead. I expect Monsieur Chabouillet will want to personally thank you for your help as soon as he sees you."

"Tell him we will wait here," Valjean said, and the youth nodded and disappeared over the wall. 

As soon as he was gone, Javert closed his eyes, sinking back into Valjean's embrace. The shock and the thrill were both subsiding within him, and he felt deadly tired. "By God," he murmured, wiping at his face and grimacing. "What a sight I must be." 

"A sight for sore eyes," Valjean murmured, kissing his ear again. "For a while I did not expect us both to survive this night."

Javert shivered at his words. The horror from before, of imagining Valjean dead, suddenly chilled his bones anew, and he turned around and cradled Valjean's face firmly between his hands. 

"You madman," he said tightly, almost choking out the words. "As if coming here to begin with -- making that climb -- wasn't bad enough! You tried to reason with that gorilla, appeal to his mercy? What were you thinking?" 

"What were you thinking, offering yourself up like that?" Valjean countered, smiling faintly. "Did you honestly expect me to quietly watch you go?"

Javert kissed him, relishing the feeling of Valjean's mouth against his own, that blissful heat he had thought he would never feel again. He put all his love and relief and exasperation into that kiss, losing himself in it, and Valjean responded in turn, his hands warm and firm on Javert's waist. 

When he finally opened his eyes to look into Valjean's dear face once more, the sun had risen, bathing the horizon in warm light. From down below, inside the building somewhere, there came sounds that Javert assumed must be from the work of clearing the staircase. That would not be done in hours yet. He and Valjean would have to wait up here meanwhile, passing the time as best they could. There were worse things to be imagined, he thought, stroking his thumbs gently over Valjean's cheekbones.

"I offered myself up like that," he said, "because I have learned something from you, Jean Valjean." 

It was Valjean who kissed him then, with a desperate fierceness he rarely let show, and Javert clung to him, kissed him back, filled with the sweet exultation of being alive and still possessing all that mattered in this world. 

At length Valjean broke free. Taking Javert's hand, he led them to the tower's wall, to the place where Kong had fallen. Javert shuddered, yet could not stop himself from looking over the wall. Far down there, he could make out the crowd, swarming around what must be Kong's carcass. Hand in hand with Valjean, looking down, he could not deny the pity in his heart, but neither would he deny his own relief.

"Thank God that sniper had a bullet left and the wits to use it," he murmured, pressing Valjean's hand. "The gorilla seemed to want me as a pet, for some reason. I would have gone willingly, if it meant saving your life. But it all turned out for the best. The boy killed the beast, and we are safe."

"In a sense, it wasn't he," Valjean said, and his voice was so thoughtful and melancholy Javert had to turn to look at him. 

Valjean raised their entwined fingers to his lips, then gave Javert a wistful smile. "It wasn't he," he repeated. "His bullet was the final stroke, that is true -- but that wasn't the gorilla's weakness, Javert. In the end, it was love that killed the beast."


End file.
